


Forget

by sinonic



Category: The Matrix
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 10:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16239659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinonic/pseuds/sinonic
Summary: A brief story I wrote for an assignment, focused on Cypher's motivations.





	Forget

The harpist’s fingers travelled over the strings, performing a gentle tune that sounded throughout the entire dining room. To my right, an almost impossibly big window showcased the city, virtually shrouded in the night – if not for the thousands of lights. It brought me directly back to my halcyon days, living obliviously in the Matrix, with endless possibilities and choices.  
Those possibilities were eradicated the moment that Morpheus came to me with a final choice. He had held out his hands, each clasping a pill. One red, and one blue. One to be “free” and one to keep living the dream. But who says to live the dream isn’t to live free?

“Do we have a deal, Mr. Raegan?”  
The formal and taciturn voice of the sentient mechanism carried me back to the dining room. I remembered the steak, the wine, and, most importantly of all – the deal.  
“I know this steak doesn’t exist. I know that when I put in my mouth, the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years, you know what I realize?”  
The lamp’s light reflected in the machine’s glasses, and I thought again of when I chose the red pill. Phosphorescent light had glinted in Morpheus’ own lens, as he asked me the question. Just as it must have when he met with Neo, no doubt.

“I don’t remember you ever bringing me dinner.” I had paused, advancing forward and leaning against the cold stone architecture, splaying my fingers over its surface. “There is something about him, isn’t there?”  
Trinity had raised an eyebrow, impassive. “Don’t tell me that you’re a believer, now.” I had tapped the stone, feeling the textures underneath my fingertips. It felt no more authentic than the stone walls in the Matrix, but how do you define real? As Morpheus had said, if real is defined by what we can feel, smell, taste and see – then real is simply electrical signals interpreted by the brain.

“Ignorance is bliss.”

I had been clicking at the keys on the computer, green figures streaming down the three central monitors. Those numbers were the entire Matrix, and even just looking at them filled me with such an intense feeling of need and longing that – “Whoa!”  
Neo had caught me off guard, jumping at my sudden outcry, a surprised look settling on his features. “Neo.” I averted eye contact. “You scared the be-jesus out of me.”  
Whilst Neo apologized, I had shut the other displays off, not wanting him to see what I was doing. It wasn’t that I was doing anything wrong, I just felt particularly paranoid after agreeing to meet with the agent.  
“Is that –“  
“The Matrix?” I nodded, staring at the numbers once more. “Yeah.”  
He leant in, squinting his eyes as if to see the numbers clearer. It was obvious that he was just as fascinated as I was, but he was just like the others as well – completely oblivious to the truth. That the “real” world was this fantastic place, when all it really was was a prison. We weren’t free here. We just followed Morpheus’ orders, like sheep after their shepherd. Like the sentinels after us. “Hey. You, uh, want a drink?”   
“Sure.”  
Pouring Neo a cup, I thought about whether or not I should say it. Deciding that nothing terrible could actually consequence from it, I handed him the beverage. “Y’know, I know what you’re thinking. Because right now I’m thinking the same thing. Actually, I’ve been thinking about it ever since I got here.” Neo, now intrigued, turned to me with a look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place. With a heavy sigh, I continued, my eyes trained on the screens. “Why, oh why, didn’t I take the blue pill?”

“Then we have a deal.” A woman approached our table, removing the pitcher of wine. The agent tilted his head down, but I knew that his lifeless eyes never strayed from me, forever anticipating my next move. It made me feel slightly uncomfortable, but with friends like Morpheus – who needed enemies?  
“I don’t wanna remember nothing. Nothing. You understand?” As I consumed yet another mouthful of the steak, I realized in that moment that it tasted more real and tangible than anything I’d eaten onboard the Nebuchadnezzar. “And I wanna be rich. Y’know, someone important. Like an actor.”  
The agent, allegedly named Smith, raised his knitted fingers in a way that suggested that he was giving in to my wishes. “Whatever you want, Mr. Raegan.”  
I paused, taking a minute to actually consider – what did I really want? Was it the fame, the riches, the delicacies? Did I actually want to be an actor? Or was I just tired of being succumbed to ennui and despair, despair from the only contentment in my life so wrapped up in someone else that – no. I would not think of her now, or at least not yet. Lifting my cigar, I popped open my lighter to ignite it. “Okay, I’ll get you what you want.”  
“Access codes to the Zion mainframe.”  
“No, I told you, I don’t know them.” I puffed out a breath of toxic, grey smoke, allowing the tendrils to twist into misshapen silhouettes before letting them peter out into thin air entirely. “I can get you the man who does.”  
“Morpheus.”

So as the rain fell, droplets racing down the glass of the phone booth, I thought of the people I was about to betray. The ones that I’d spent nearly the last decade with – and I knew that some part of me was already remorseful, and that some part of me still loved her.  
But as I pressed the receiver firmly to my ear, permitting the call to go through, I also knew that I was going to forget.


End file.
